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08 June 2015

My novel, Hand of Fire,
set within the Trojan War has a key wedding early on. It isn’t going to be a
happy wedding—the reader has plenty of foreboding about it. But for me as a
writer, it had to be a correct wedding. That is, it needed to follow accurately
the rites that would have occurred in such a Late Bronze Age (1250 BCE) wedding
in Troy or any of the satellite, semi-independent kingdoms of the Hittite
Empire.

For all things Hittite we have thousands of clay tablets
describing religious and political procedures. But do you think that those
piles of clay happened to record a wedding? Nope. Not that I could find. The
closest Hittite information is on a vase in the Çorum Museum, Turkey depicting
several religious celebrations including a wedding.

Hittite Vase in Çorum, Turkey

I've used photos of this
vase to illustrate this post. But the vase isn't terribly informative.

So what is a historical novelist who cares about historical
accuracy supposed to do? Go comparative. I scoured the surrounding cultures
(also literate, helpfully enough) and I picked up the constants, the things
that repeat across these cultures. You may find it interesting to note any
similarities to the weddings you’ve witnessed. Some things don’t change much.

I designed as legitimate a ceremony as I could and wrote it
down. And then I cut almost all of it. Much later, of course, but still, all
that research and thought on the chopping block. The wedding stayed but most of
the details needed to go. The story must leap along, not get overloaded with
unnecessary stuff, and I had weighed mine down. The historian gave way to the
novelist. All that knowledge still echoes behind the details I did include and
makes for a much stronger scene. But when Lisa Yarde, the trusty leader of the
Unusual Historicals blog group, asked for a post about “Weddings in History,” I
opened up an ancient version of my novel and thought. Hmm. Here’s a post where I
can include what my informed guess about what a Hittite/Trojan (or most Near Eastern
cultures of the Late Bronze Age) wedding looked like. That’s fun to read for
the historically enthusiastic.

So here is my reconstruction as I wrote it originally (well,
this time I cut a lot of the emotional stuff because I was going for the
wedding details in this post—reverse novelist, maybe). If you’ve read Hand of Fire, you’ll notice characters
who are no longer in the book and other wisely edited-out strands. But you’ll
also find all the rich details of the ceremony itself. In my novel, I kept the
elaborate bathing and dressing ritual, so if you want to know about how the
lovely, sexy bride was attired and prepared, you can find that part in the printed pages.
For the ceremony itself, here it is, the wedding of Briseis to Mynes:

Ana and Eurome lead Briseis into
the courtyard. Ana made a few minute adjustments to her drapery, and then on
either side, Eurome and Ana pulled open the double doors so that Briseis was revealed
in one dramatic moment. There was an appreciative intake of breath as the large
assembly caught sight of her. She stepped into the megaron hall, and her father
came forward to walk her to her groom.

She caught sight of Mynes: his eyes
were locked on her. She felt her father’s hand on her lower back as he guided
her toward the family shrine.

When they were a few steps from
Mynes, Glaukos stopped and said, “I give my daughter, Briseis, to be led into
marriage by Mynes, son of Euenos. I grant her the goods and lands as agreed for
her dowry. This tablet, a catalogue of all that I send with her and marked with
my seal, will go with her as proof of her dowry.” Bienor placed the tablet onto
the offering table that had been set up next to the wooden shrine.

Glaukos stepped back. Mynes moved
forward so that he and Briseis faced each other. He gazed up and down her
veiled form.

Priests making offerings on wicker offering table

There were many prayers to the
gods—two priests and one priestess laid breads and grains on the offering table
and poured libations while asking for the blessings of the gods and
goddesses—but Briseis was only partially aware of this long process. For the
first time she could look closely at the man marrying her and study him without
shame.

…

The offerings and prayers were
done. They had reached the final part of the ceremony. One of the priests
nodded to them. They came closer together. The priest drew a circle around them
on the floor with barley meal. Mynes reached for her right hand and breathed in
sharply as his hand touched hers. His hold tightened. Her long fingers suddenly
seemed small inside his powerful hand. He spoke the traditional words that
sealed their marriage. “You will be my wife. I shall be your husband.”

Hatepa handed Mynes a small silver
bowl filled with cedar oil, and he let go of Briseis’ hand to receive it. Briseis
turned towards Ana so that she could fold the veil back into a frame around
Briseis’ face and then pin it into place with two golden pins, their tops
shaped like bees. When Ana stepped back, Mynes looked directly at Briseis’
face. For a moment he seemed to waver as though wind had struck him full in the
face. Then, as required by the ceremony, he dipped three fingers into the oil
and anointed her forehead. The fragrance of freshly cut cedar filled the air. His
fingers lingered on her skin and his eyes met hers—consuming her as a starving
man devours food.

Briseis did not hear the final
blessings spoken by the head priest. She did not know for how long she was
locked into Mynes’ gaze, but when he dropped his eyes, the musicians were
accompanying the singers in a hymn to Kamrusepa, praising her for bringing
fertility to women. She was grateful when her father led the two families to
the seats of honor near the hearth, and she was able to conceal her
discomposure by attending to her dress as they moved through the crowded
room.

…

Mynes sat in the chair next to
her. In a state of confusion,
Briseis watched Ana and the servants settle the guests into seats around the
megaron hall and flowing out into the courtyard. The big double doors had been
thrown open to make the guests outside feel part of the celebration. Immediately
trays of food came out and wine was poured for everyone. This was her home—or
had been until today—but she felt as if she were observing a completely strange
place and people.

The feast went on. Mynes occasionally
put his hand over hers when she rested it on the arm of her chair. She dared to
look at him and smile when he did.
Gradually she overcame the blushing that followed each glance. She tried
to imagine being in a room alone with him, but that made her too nervous, so
she let her mind go still. Many
people came to greet them and wish them well. She smiled and bowed her head
modestly in thanks.

When the food was cleared away, the
musicians started to play again and the dancers beat out rhythms with their feet
and hands, their swaying bodies drawing lines through the air as they moved
together in sacred circles. The movements were prayers of thanksgiving for this
new union; the dancers raised their hands to the heavens and pulled the gods’
blessings down towards the couple so that they would have many children. Then
they began to spin ever faster, drawing down the gods’ goodwill.

Acrobats in religious procession

Next the acrobats performed,
drawing cries of delight from the crowd with their antics. Their movements were
occasionally suggestive of the coming nuptial night, and the guests responded
with laughter and jokes. They directed much of their ribbing at Mynes, and, as
was expected of him, he laughed and turned aside the jesting by pretending to
be completely unaware of its intended meaning. Briseis was grateful when her
father announced that it was time to accompany the bride to her new home.

Ana arranged her veil back over her
face for the procession to the palace. Her father and brothers guided the bride
and groom out of the house behind the musicians and dancers. Guests formed a
loose tail behind them, often singing joking songs and throwing figs and
almonds towards the newly joined couple to bring them sweetness and
fertility.

_________________________________________________________

Judith Starkston writes historical fiction and mysteries set in Troy and the Hittite Empire. She is a classicist (B.A. University of California, Santa Cruz, M.A. Cornell University) who taught high school English, Latin and humanities. She and her husband have two grown children and live in Arizona with their golden retriever Socrates. Her debut novel is Hand of Fire.

Find an excerpt, book reviews, historical background, as well as on-going information about the historical fiction community onwww.JudithStarkston.com

4 comments:

A wonderful post Judith. It's great to read of other authors' challenges when writing in ancient periods. I too had to write about an important wedding, though mine was set in early 5thC Britain. As you say, research gives us more than is required in the final novel and so blogs are an excellent avenue in which to share all the details that didn't make the final edit. I really enjoyed reading the excerpt! Thank you for sharing.

Great post. I understand that in the overall scheme of the novel you felt this didn't fit the pacing you wanted. Whomever said "kill your darlings" was referring to these kinds of deleted scenes that every author wrestles with. It is so helpful to see what others are going through so I really appreciate your sharing.